


Candy

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Exhibitionism, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8619640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Sirius shows James what he’ll miss if he gets married.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My entry for October’s Daily Deviant. This isn’t properly British.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.

James sighs, “You’re wasting your time,” but comes along anyway, because it’s still going to be fun. Everything with Sirius is fun. And despite what Sirius seems to believe, that’s going to continue on long after James is married. “I don’t care how much porn you’ve got in there; the wedding’s still on.”

Sirius pushes the door to his flat open. It’s dingy inside, small and out of the way, as dark as Grimmuald Place but not nearly so expensive. Or overrun with grating family. As soon as he’s ushered in, James steps out of the hall. The Muggle residence of the dilapidated building keep looking at his robes funny, and more importantly, he _is_ sort of curious as to what debauched temptation Sirius has conjured up now.

Sirius just gives him a knowing grin and leads on to the bedroom. James sees the mischievous glint in his best friend’s eyes and is ready to say they can’t do _that_ anymore, not now that he’s with Lily, but then Sirius is moving aside to give him a proper view of the bedroom, and James’ words die on his tongue.

“We’ll try a live show this time,” Sirius says, his voice syrup-sweet. James wants to repeat himself, to say that he has no desire to watch Sirius masturbate, but it’s clear that’s not what this time’s about. “ _Then_ we’ll see if you really want to go off and get hitched and leave all your amazing Marauder days behind.”

That’s not what he’s doing. He just closes his mouth and swallows. The bedroom’s as messy here as Sirius’ was at home, crudely decorated with Quidditch knickknacks and Gryffindor leftovers from Hogwarts. James has seen it all a hundred times.

He’s seen _Remus Lupin_ a hundred times, just not like this. There’s nothing overtly conspicuous about Remus now. He’s perched quietly in the middle of Sirius’ bed, wearing jeans and an oversized sweater, his honey hair combed neatly and his pale cheeks a light pink. He gives James a sheepish smile, but James has long since seen past that innocent veneer. 

Remus tells him, “Full disclosure: this was all Sirius’ idea.”

And Sirius smirks like he’s proud of that.

James has half a mind to run. If he gets going now, he can probably make it home by dinner, and he’ll never have to tell Lily what crazy shenanigans they got up to this time. James’ traitorous head automatically wonders if, were he not with her, this would be an offer for a threesome. He would never have thought that was on the table before. He didn’t even think Remus had any interest in men. Sirius, sure, he’ll do anything with anyone, but Remus was always the proper one, at least more proper than them, the one that wasn’t simpering at him like Peter or slobbering over him like Sirius, the untouchable, vague daydream...

Sirius takes James’ non-existent protest for what it is and lightly shoves him towards the old armchair pulled up beside the bed. James holds onto the idea of running for another minute, then gives up and collapses into the seat. Remus gives him a sickeningly perfect smile. Even with the faded pink scar sliced evenly down Remus’ face, he’s charming, beautiful in a raw, weather-beaten sort of way. He looks at James the entire time Sirius is shrugging out of his robes, kicking off his shoes, and then there’s the telltale clink of a metal belt clasp coming undone, and Remus finally follows the sound. 

He leans up as Sirius comes in, hiking one leg up onto the battered mattress. It depresses with a groan. Both of Sirius’ hands lift to cup Remus’ face, long fingers sliding back into his hair—it always looked so _soft_ to James. They meet in a kiss that can’t be their first. There’s no hesitation, no wait. Sirius flattens himself into Remus like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Remus takes it with a growing smile and his hands coming up to clutch at Sirius’ shirt. He pulls Sirius closer by it, and they go toppling backwards already, Sirius landing on top of Remus in the rumpled sheets. James’ first thought is a question, _how often have they done this?_ , and then a jolt of jealousy. 

They explore each other like it’s new anyway. Remus traces down Sirius’ chest, then comes around his shoulders to slide through his long hair, crinkling his shirt before getting started on the buttons. Sirius lets his hands roam greedily along Remus’ sides, making a show of the curve of his hips and the arch of his spine. They kiss the entire time, full of tongue and teeth, open and closed wide enough for James to see _everything_. They make sinful noises while they touch—little gasps and muffled groans, and then both of Sirius’ hands disappear under the hem of Remus’ sweater, and Remus tosses his head back to moan. James eyes the line of his throat and the way Sirius laves blunt teeth over it. He should’ve known they were fucking. 

He’s not sure it would’ve changed anything. But he would’ve liked to _know_. Instead, he watches Sirius pull the sweater right over Remus’ head and start in on Remus’ lithe stomach. Remus is dotted with imperfections—more scars, scratches and punctures, from the times James fought so hard to protect him from. James has daydreamed, more than once or twice, of getting _this_ for a reward, but always felt guilty after, and here Sirius is licking Remus’ rosy nipples like he’s paid for them in full. Remus groans and threads his fingers back into Sirius’ hair, his eyes flickering to James’. They’re as impish as Sirius’. Bright and irresistible, James holds that gaze until Remus breaks it, glancing down to where Sirius is mouthing at his fly. 

Sirius gets Remus’ jeans down partially with his hands, mostly with his teeth. It’s hardly the first time James has seen Remus naked, but it’s the first time in this context, and he stares at the thin cock that springs out, nearly hitting Sirius’ face. James takes in ever little detail that he didn’t all those other times he wasn’t _supposed_ to be looking, while Remus laughs, “I think James already knows how well you suck cock, Padfoot.”

“He’s heard the rumours,” Sirius concedes, now lifting Remus’ ankles to get the jeans off entirely. There’s no underwear to be found. Remus is left entirely naked afterwards, all laid out on display, but certain parts covered in shadow as Sirius drapes back over him, purring, “But does he know how good _you_ are at it?”

James’ ears perk up like he’s still in deer form. Remus just scoffs, “I’ll never be the expert you are.”

Sirius answers the teasing with a wide grin and gives Remus’ cheek a light peck, then starts to shuffle around. He moves to straddle Remus, up on all fours, but facing the opposite way, and James has half a mind to tell him off—that position won’t make for a very good view. But he understands a minute later, when Sirius ducks down to lick a hard line across the jut of Remus’ hip. Remus makes a keening noise and squirms, rubbing his thighs together and arching off the bed, but Sirius pushes him down and pries his legs right open. James’ pants are getting uncomfortably tight. 

Remus is working Sirius’ trousers open. He pulls out Sirius’ cock with a familiar ease. The rest of Sirius’ clothes stay on, but it doesn’t matter—James has spent enough time in the showers after Quidditch matches with Sirius to know what it all looks like. Remus tries to take a steady hold of Sirius’ hips, but Sirius bucks down to wipe his cock across Remus’ face, and Remus splutters, “You’re such a dog.”

“Just showing Prongs what fun he’s missing,” Sirius quips. James was already thinking it. He’s grateful that Remus doesn’t look over at him again, but he’s sure his face is burning from the lewd images of rubbing his own cock into Remus’ pretty face.

When Remus first parts his pink lips and takes Sirius’ veiled tip onto his tongue, James has to shoot one hand up to muffle his groan. The other hand presses down against his crotch, palming himself through the fabric. Remus takes a little more, guiding Sirius’ shaft into his mouth, then pauses to let out a muffled cry as Sirius starts in on him. James’ eyes dart over, watching Sirius swallow Remus down with skilled precision. Sirius is larger, but James knows it’s also practice and impatience. Remus takes his time, slowly taking in more and more and holding Sirius back from feeding him too much, his lips stretched wide and glistening wet. James can only imagine how hot it is inside his mouth, how tight his throat is, how soft his tongue is, how good it feels when he sucks. James can see when it first happens—the way Remus’ cheeks hollow out and a tremor runs through Sirius’ legs. Then James is drawn back to Sirius, because while Remus is holding Sirius in place, Sirius is feeling Remus up. His fingers are spread around Remus’ plush rear, and he kneads the ripe flesh with obvious enjoyment. Remus rocks gently into the touch but doesn’t buck like Sirius would. He sticks to obediently sucking on Sirius’ cock with his thick lashes against his flushed cheeks and his open mouth stuffed full.

It should be disgusting. That’s what James will have to say if Lily asks. But it’s _not_ , it’s _amazing_ , watching his two best friends suck each other off in an attempt to entice him back to their side. He hates how much it’s working. It’s one thing to know that Sirius can, and would, get him off any time he wanted, but it’s another thing to see Sirius getting _Remus_ off, and Remus returning the favour. Seeing Sirius’ thick cock sheath itself completely in Remus’ mouth, only to slide out a second later, slick with spit, makes it impossible to be a passive observer. James shifts his robes for cover and pulls himself out as subtly as possible. The noises on the bed cover the movement, and neither looks over. He only has his own shame to face. He strokes himself to the sight of them, drinking in every filthy moan. 

It goes on way too long, languid and heady and strangely addicting, until Sirius ups the ante. His hand shifts under Remus’ ass, and James can’t see what he does, but Remus makes a sudden cry and stiffens in reaction. He looks like he’s going to pull off, but Sirius stays firmly in place, and Remus settles, lashes fluttering before squeezing shut again, and James can guess what’s going on—Sirius is fingering him. That leads James down a whole new path, and he wonders if that’s next—will he actually get to see _Sirius fuck Remus_ , and maybe they can really go for the gold in trying to tempt him and have Remus cry out James’ name—but it ends too soon.

Remus comes first. He squirms deliciously, his hips trembling as his mouth lets out a litany of stifled noises, his fingers digging hard into Sirius’ hips. James can see Sirius’ smirk, even stretched open as it is. He watches the peak of Remus’ orgasm and the satisfying way Remus slumps afterwards, his arms falling down to the mattress, only for Sirius to start fucking his face with abandon.

James comes before Sirius does. He has only his own hand, but his imagination’s enough to spur him along, and what really does it is Remus lazily glancing over at him, mouth still full of cock. James has to shut his eyes, because he can’t have that picture lingering with him. He grits his teeth to bite back his scream and jerks himself to the end.

Sirius comes only a few thrusts later, spilling himself into Remus’ mouth and lifting up to let the rest splash across Remus’ face. Remus just shuts his eyes and takes it, tongue out to catch what it can. If James hadn’t _just_ come down, he’d be getting hard again. 

As it is, he tries to tell himself that Remus’ face covered in a sticky batch of seed is gross and not the least bit hot.

And Sirius ruins it by turning right around, collapsing atop Remus again, and kissing him _hard_. James shouldn’t be surprised. Remus is a little sluggish now, but Sirius is just as fierce as ever, and he doesn’t seem to have any qualms about licking his own cum off Remus’ face and shoving his coated tongue back into Remus’ mouth. James feels faintly dizzy.

It’s like they’ve forgotten him. It was all about him, but for the next few minutes, James just sits there, the show over, and Sirius and Remus kiss and touch and nuzzle into one another like the afterglow’s taken them down to just animal instincts. It isn’t until James has quietly tucked himself back into his robes and is getting up to head for the washroom when they look up at him again.

“Still sure you don’t want to keep it in the Marauder circle?” Sirius asks with full confidence. Remus looks somewhere between indulgent and hopeful.

James isn’t at all sure of anything. But he dons a weak smile and lies, “No go, Padfoot. Sorry.”

Sirius makes an overdramatic noise and buries himself in Remus’ shoulder, only for Remus to laugh and pat his shoulder faux-consolingly.

James stumbles out of the bedroom to go wash himself off, all his steeping doubts kept firmly to himself.


End file.
